


Fangled

by herbailiwick



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Christmas, M/M, Purgatory, Weapons
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-03
Updated: 2017-07-03
Packaged: 2018-11-22 18:54:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,321
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11386311
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/herbailiwick/pseuds/herbailiwick
Summary: Winter Drawing/Writing Challenge Day29 - Power Outage.For astrobots. Started Feb 11th, 2013.





	Fangled

Benny laughed. "What, Dean, your life in Purgatory ain't excitin' enough?"

Dean laughed a little too, looking down at himself, at the blood staining his shirt, bright and shining while a lot of things in Purgatory were dull. "I just meant...man, I miss some things. Sure, I'm _occupied_ , hunting these evil sons of bitches."

"They ain't all evil," Benny pointed out, "but, more or less."  


Dean wiped off his machete with his sleeve for a moment. "Don't you miss life out there, man?" he asked with a hint of hope.

"Yeah. Hell yeah." Benny nodded. "This place is a piss poor substitute; that's for sure."

Dean seemed relieved.

***

"Well Merry Christmas to us," Dean said, bright-eyed as he examined the sword from the dead vamp's belt. "Man, if I say one nice thing about Purgatory, it'd be the variety of weapons here. I mean, where does this one even come from?" Dean lifted the sword carefully and began to check its balance. "My god. It's beautiful. And did you see the way he came at me with it?"

Benny's lip quirked as he leaned against a tree and watched Dean test out the sword. "Aw hell, I don't know," Benny said. "You'd know better than me."

"Nahhh," Dean said. 

"No, you would," said Benny. "That ain't somethin' I pay attention to." Dean turned to look at Benny over his shoulder. "I mean, one of my best weapons is on me at all times," he licks his teeth for a second, running the tip of his tongue over the hole for his fang, "and other than that all I need's my machete. That thing'll just slow you down."

Dean balked, disappointed to not be understood in his love for weapons. "At one point, you might have said _I_ just slow you down."

"I _did_ say that. When a sword starts killin' people on its own, you can talk."

Dean tried to think up a good double entendre about swordplay, but there was the slight sound of company approaching, and at the sudden appearance of a new threat, Dean hefted the blade forward for a deep, satisfying stab. "Oh mama, that's the ticket," Dean muttered, satisfied.

***

"I miss the sea," Benny said. "I miss automobiles. I miss the hum of electricity, the sound of a telephone ringing. The sound of two glasses of whisky clackin' together. Gumbo. The taste of gumbo."  


“Oh, man,” Dean said. “Burgers. Juicy, bacony cheeseburgers. Dripping down your hand from all the grease.” Benny looked at him, askance. Dean waved away the expression. “Alright, old school. I still like whisky too. And I can’t wait to give you a ride in my car.”  


“The Impala,” Benny said dreamily. “Purrin’ like a kitten.”  


“We’ll kick Sam to the back,” Dean teased. Benny shot him a doubtful look, but he grinned and repeated himself. “No, we’ll kick him to the back,” he said, hardly noticing himself getting carried away.  


***

"Got a little somethin' while you took that cat nap." 

Dean smiled an open smile for a moment, one full of trust. Benny stepped forward, reached for the sword, showed it to him. "It _is_ nice," he said, offering it to Dean.

Dean handled it a little for himself, and took a good look at the engraved handle, whistling. "We should start a stash."

“You sure?” Benny asked. “Seems like a commitment. To this place, to this...’life’ we’re livin’.”  


“I’m with you. I wanna be here with you. I wanna enjoy it. The stash’ll be a nice bonus.”  


“Luke 12:34,” Benny warned.   


“Hmm?” Dean offered a flirtatious smile. “What is that? ‘No homo’?”

Benny rolled his eyes at Dean. “For where your treasure is, there will your heart be also.” He glanced pointedly at the sword. Dean’s face fell, so he added, gently, “Just don’t forget about the people you love up there, is all. I’m just a vampire.”

Dean eyed Benny with concern.

“What?”

“You aren’t just a vampire,” he told him, eyes eerily serious.   


“Let’s find you some more stuff to covet,” Benny said, rolling his eyes. He wasn’t quite ready to hear such talk from the pretty human.  


***

“What do you think?”  


"A place for you to put all your pretty li'l things, huh?" Benny grins, thinks he almost catches the way Dean watches his grin.  


“I prefer to call it a Man Cave,” Dean shared. “Or, maybe a Bat Cave.”

“Like Batman!” Benny said, and Dean looked at him, impressed. 

“Yeah, old school. A classic hero.”   


Dean decides he’s gonna go for it, gonna ask Benny for more than maybe he should.

There's a sound off behind the trees then. They tense and get ready. They’ll lead them away from the cave, their new place.

***

Mutual pleasure can be found in between rounds of combat, especially when there’s a fort involved, one with a stash in it.

It becomes, as most things tend to do, a game for Benny, in time. "How that one there?" he asks, pointing to an abandoned machete. 

Then, "Got you a li'l dagger. I don't know," Benny says with a hint of embarrassment, pulling it out, handing it over. "You like it?"  


Dean likes it.

***

"So, you said time moves like normal here?" Dean asks with a frown.

"Yeah! We just don’t age. Why you askin’, sweetcheeks?" Benny teased, curling his arm around Dean’s shoulders. 

"I think that means it's almost Christmas time!” Dean said, honestly excited about it, despite thinking he wouldn’t lend a second thought to it. How do vampires celebrate Christmas?"

***

They've blocked the entrance alright for now.

The firelight flickers warmly. Benny reaches out, pulls Dean in close. 

Dean actually giggles. 

“I won’t read you the Christmas story,” Benny giggles in turn. “Don’t worry. But I’ll give you your present.”  


“Let me guess,” Dean said, giving Benny a quick peck on the cheek.   


“No!” Benny put a finger in front of Dean’s full, pink lips, pressing them slightly. They parted slightly without Dean really noticing. “No guessin’. I’m gonna go get it. You see how the stew’s doin’!”  


Dean rolled his eyes. They didn’t need to eat, no, but stuff grew, and while they didn’t have any meat available that wasn’t disturbing to even imagine someone, anyone, eating, it’d do for a Christmas meal. They had Benny’s moonshine, too. And the odd insect, especially beetles and maggots. Beetles were okay, but maggots were not a low either cared to stoop to.

***

Dean laughed as he stared at the object Benny’d wrapped up in his shirt. “Does this work?!” he asked.

“It should!” Benny said happily. “Li’l grenade, just for you.”  


“This is amazing!”   


“There’s another surprise!” he nodded to his coat.  


“Naw. Really?” Dean rushed over, flinging the coat open. “What?!” He glanced over at Benny, eyes promising a hefty reward.   


“Machine gun,” Benny said, linking his fingers and resting his hands behind his head, elbows out. “You might as well get started with a thank you now.”  


“Well, I got you something, too, jackass,” Dean teased, but his flush said he would love to make with the kind of thanking Benny was alluding to.   


“It has no signal,” Dean said, turning it on. “But it’s got charge enough to play you this.”   


Benny stared at the mysterious silver box in Dean’s hands, a thin lantern with a blue glow. He blinked, trying to make sense of it.

Dean made it play the tone of a telephone ringing. It echoed around the cave. Benny laughed quietly, amazed. “What is that?!” he asked.

“It’s a phone!” Dean said. “I shit you not, it’s one of them new-fangled phones.”  


Benny ripped it out of Dean’s hands, pawing at it, pulling it close to his face. “I’ve never seen anything like this,” he said, a hint of fear in his voice that Dean found endearing.

“You keep checkin’ it out. But...start to undress,” Dean said.  


And Benny did.


End file.
